


I’ll be the one to come undone

by DryDreams



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Feelings, Multi, You can pretend they don’t kiss but rest assured they do be, sad ones, set at the beginning of 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29040006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DryDreams/pseuds/DryDreams
Summary: Arthur can’t imagine anything he wouldn’t forgive this man for. Might be his greatest fault.
Relationships: Abigail Roberts Marston/John Marston/Arthur Morgan, John Marston/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	I’ll be the one to come undone

“Would you hate me if I forgave him before you did?”

The question breaks a silence that feels like it’s lasted for days, the two of them sitting across the room from the bed where John lays fitfully asleep, small and near as pale as his bandages. Arthur imagines that the way his chest aches whenever the light catches the too-hollow space under John’s cheekbone is magnified several times over beneath Abigail’s ribs. 

She doesn’t acknowledge him for a long moment, stock still like a photograph; the only movement in the room is the candlelight flickering against her skin. Then she blinks slowly, like she’s waking up from a dream. She doesn’t look away from John as she speaks.

“You can make up your mind to forgive him for what he did to you whenever you like. So long as you never forgive him for what he did to me.”

Arthur watches John’s hand flex, fingers unconsciously grasping the sheets and his own hand itches to cover them. He can’t imagine anything he wouldn’t forgive this man for, he thinks. Might be his greatest fault. 

When he looks back to Abigail she’s studying him, head tilted to the side. Her eyes are sad but her mouth quirks up at the edge slightly as she speaks.

“You’re too damn soft, Arthur Morgan.”

—

John sleeps for a week. Arthur gets restless.

“I don’t know how you can stand to keep lookin’ at him like this.” 

He says it more violently than he means to, and regrets it when Abigail’s eyes snap to him, narrowed in warning.

He backs down, swallowing thickly and raising his hands. She does too, looking calmly back to the mending in her lap.

“D’you wanna know somethin’ awful?” She asks like she’s asking if he wants a cup of coffee.

He blinks at her. “I dunno. Do I?”

The flatness in her eyes when she raises her chin to look over at John’s sleeping form scares Arthur just a little bit.

“Looking at it makes me feel like I’ve been avenged, sometimes. Like he got what was coming to him for hurtin’ me, and now we’re even.” 

Her jaw tenses and Arthur catches the glimmer of a tear in her eye. When his first thought is _Christ, finally I’m not the only goddamn one crying over him_ , he realizes he understands. 

When he puts a hand on her shoulder she tips her head to rest her cheek there in turn. 

“That’s alright.” He says. “It’s alright.”

—

For all his wounded pride, Arthur doesn’t say a word to John after he wakes up. Not until John gets back on his feet and walks himself to Arthur’s tent himself.

Abigail is there that night, curled fast asleep around Jack in Arthur’s cot. They end up there more often than not these days, and Arthur doesn’t mind the permanent twinge in his back if it means the two of them are a little less lonely.

Whether John was looking for her or not, Arthur doesn’t know, but it brings him there all the same, and for that Arthur is secretly grateful. He probably wouldn’t have held out much longer, to be honest.

John has a look in his eye like a skittish horse when he pushes the tent flap open. An awkward smile forces its way onto his face as his eyes dart around and then meet Arthur’s.

“Y’got my wife in your bed, Morgan.” He quips. 

Arthur just stares at him. The smile disappears, replaced by something raw that makes Arthur’s heart pound. He watches as John tentatively, gingerly kneels in front of him. His fingers flex nervously as he places his hands on his thighs. He looks to the ground and then back up and when he meets Arthur’s eye again his cheeks are wet with tears. 

“I’m so sorry.” He rasps, voice cracking, and that’s all Arthur can stand. He surges forward and John sags into his arms, and the relief at feeling him solid against his chest makes Arthur’s throat feel so tight it hurts. 

“I know.” He says, low and pacifying as he cups the back of John’s head, holding him tight to his shoulder as John’s fingers curl in his shirt and he shudders. “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> I’m only like 18% of the way through the goddamn story but I have feelings about them ok and here they are


End file.
